The Problem with being Stubborn
by FinalAvenue
Summary: If Carter wasn’t almost in tears from the pain and angry with herself for the whole situation, then she might find it funny. Almost.


Major Samantha Carter was stubborn. At least that is what she had been told growing up by her mother, father, her brother and anyone else who had spent much time around her. That stubbornness had seen her through the academy and out of many tough situations over the years. Her unwillingness to not give up; to keep looking for the answers.

That will alone was fuelling her flailing crow hop down the corridor. If Carter wasn't almost in tears from the pain and angry with herself for the whole situation, then she might find it funny.

Almost.

Major Carter tried to smile casually to an Airman who passed by in the hall, giving him a firm nod as encouragement to continue onward. The young man merely raised an eyebrow and to his credit never faltered in step, no doubt wondering what said officer was going through. Carter took the opportunity to rest against the wall, watching as the Airman glanced back at her doubtfully. Her chest was heaving slightly from the effort of hobbling painfully through the mostly deserted halls of the SGC, her destination the infirmary.

Starting forward once again Sam grunted with effort, using the wall to keep her upright as she tried not to put much weight on her right foot. Although it remained in her boot, Sam was certain the offending appendage was several times its normal size. Best case scenario badly sprained, worst case possibly broken. The Major tried not to get angry again as she thought of how the incident had occurred.

Propped up on a ladder, Sam had been examining a large piece of alien technology. The suspected generator was about the size of a large deep freeze and resting on a couple wooden pallets. Absorbed in her work, Sam had carelessly shifted her balance and caused her to topple heavily to the floor. Her right knee and foot had crumbled underneath her, immediately causing her to cry out. Her head had next met the floor, causing her to black out for about 20 seconds—not that she would willingly admit that to anyone.

Angry and embarrassed, the last 30 minutes had been spent at a snail's pace trying to reach the infirmary, too stubborn to call for assistance. Sam desperately hoping that the fact she was able to make it the infirmary would reassure that her injury was minor, allowing her to return to work. As Sam stopped once again, resting against the cement bulkhead at a corridor junction, she began to doubt that logic. Each step sent jarring pain up her leg and a monster headache had now taken residence in her skull.

"Stupid," she mumbled under her breath.

"Are you okay m'am?" a concerned young Airman asked, Sam nodding her head immediately.

"As you were Airman," she ordered, the young man pausing for a moment, debating on whether he should follow his superior's order when she was obviously dishevelled and out of breath. Sam shot the soldier a glare, who then nodded and continued down the hall. She was lucky it was 3 o'clock in the morning or the halls would be filled with base personnel, making her trek much more difficult.

Sam eyed down the corridor, figuring that the infirmary was at the most another 50 feet, give or take. Piece of cake, she thought with a snort. Taking a deep breath, Sam steeled herself for the journey, gingerly testing her foot once again and grimacing when it sent fire throughout her leg.

"Carter?"

Sam froze and mentally pushed away her discomfort. Very familiar footsteps echoed down the hallway as he made his way to her. She plastered on a tense smile as Colonel Jack O'Neill presented himself before her.

"Sir," Sam greeted as she tried to look as casual as possible. His keen eyes immediately noticed her peculiar behaviour and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"What's wrong?" O'Neill asked quickly, taking in his 21C's tense body language and how she was leaning heavily against the wall. "And I thought you were going home Major?" he added disapprovingly, as Carter flashed him a smile, trying her best to dispel his worry.

"You're still here sir..."

"I'm in charge while the General is in Washington. What are _you_ still doing here Carter?" He fixed her with a glare, not impressed with her effort to stall his questions. She sighed, knowing that the Colonel was not going to leave her alone anytime soon.

"Well sir, I just couldn't pull myself away from the generator machine. I was just taking a break, stretching the legs Colonel," she explained, telling herself that her response was mostly the truth.

"Uh-huh," her superior rubbed his chin as he scrutinized her further. He took in how Carter was placing very little weight on her right foot and her glassy blue eyes. Her whole body language was screaming something was wrong. Seven years in the field together had allowed him the privilege to know when Carter was hiding something.

Following his gut, Jack pointed to her foot. "Something wrong with your foot Carter?" he asked, alarm briefly sparking the Major's eyes as he then bent forward to assess the problem.

"No sir," Carter quickly pleaded, pulling her leg back and a haggard gasp leaving her lips as she stepped away from O'Neill's prying hands.

Now definitely convinced of a problem, Jack stood up quickly and gave Sam a warning glare. "Out with it Carter," he ordered, his hands ready to lend support as Carter looked as if she was now going to pass out. Taking a deep breath, she forced her reply out quickly.

"I hurt my foot sir."

"I can see that Carter," he answered annoyed that she was apparently stonewalling him when she was in obvious pain. "How?"

"Ladder." Carter stated simply as the Colonel pulled her left arm over his shoulders and used his body to steady her, Carter able to use him as a crutch. They hobbled slowly down the hall, Carter gritting her teeth to prevent crying out.

"Did you get the name of this offending ladder?"

"Not funny sir," Carter huffed, her total concentration on walking. Left foot, right foot. Despite this, a small smile worked its way onto her face.

"Is there a reason besides your stubborn sense of pride that you didn't call the infirmary to report your accident?" O'Neill asked, already knowing the answer. Carter shook her head dejectedly. "It could just be me, but I think you could have saved yourself some pain here Carter. Oh that's right; you're a sucker for punishment." A strangled laugh met his ears, as Carter looked to him wearily.

"Stubborn pride sir."

"Oh I know all about your stubborn pride Carter. As I recall, it has got us outta trouble on more than one occasion. Seriously though Carter, save it for the Goa'uld," the Colonel offered gently as they entered into the deserted infirmary. Carter merely nodded her head, concentrating on moving forward and not collapsing. She held onto the Colonel tightly, her body slowly tiring and requiring his support more.

O'Neill guided them towards the closest bed; Carter grunting as she heavily sat on the edge of it. Gingerly stretching her leg out, the Major assessed her damaged foot while trying to ignore the persistent ringing that had taken up residence in her ears. The Colonel squeezed her arm reassuringly as he left to find help.

Her head resting upon her hands, Carter silently wished she had just called the infirmary.

* * *

A soft knock to her office door revived her tired body, Doctor Janet Fraiser quickly raising her head and brushing fallen locks of hair from her eyes. Clearing her throat, she eyed the clock noting it was 0350. "Enter."

Her chief nursing officer for the shift entered into her office, an apologetic smile on her face. "Sorry to bother you m'am. But there is a situation that needs your attention," the young woman explained, Janet raising from her seat and brushing the wrinkles from her uniform.

"What's the problem Jennifer?" the doctor asked, as they exited her office, Janet expecting to see Siler injured in some capacity taking up one of her beds. Unfortunately, it was a common occurrence. Janet secretly thought he was one of the most unlucky officers when it came to base mishaps.

"Major Carter M'am. She sustained an injury in her lab," the young nurse offered, as they entered into the main area of the infirmary.

"What is the injury?" Janet inquired, as they rounded the corner through the empty medical bay.

"Her foot I believe. Colonel O'Neill was not much help m'am," Jennifer stated a little annoyed as the Colonel and Major Carter came into view. Sam sat hunched over, her head practically resting in her lap. O'Neill was hovering close by, obviously worried.

Janet determined that although nothing appeared to be life threatening, Sam's behaviour was noticeably distressed and her hopes for only a minor injury washed out the window.

"Colonel," Janet greeted as Jack nodded in return, the Doctor coming to stand beside Sam. "What happened?" Sam cringed beside her, covering her ears.

"You don't have to yell," she mumbled into her lap, as Janet gave her a worried look. The Doctor looked to the Colonel, who shrugged his shoulders.

"As far as I know, she fell off a ladder and probably broke her right foot. I found her hobbling through the halls on her way here." Janet sighed, silently cursing the stubborn will that the military instilled in its members. Although in this case, she suspected it was more Sam's own stubborn will.

"Sam, what hurts?" Janet asked, as the blonde haired Major sat upright and squinted up at the Doctor. Janet noted her slightly dilated pupils and catalogued the information away to help her understand the whole picture.

"My right foot, I fell on it off the ladder. I admit it wasn't such a good idea to walk here because it hurts...a lot right now," she emphasized, Janet leaning down and loosening the laces on her boots. She gently pulled the boot off, Sam exhaling through the discomfort and Janet began probing the foot. After several minutes, Janet stopped and watched as Sam sighed in relief.

"I think its broken Sam. We need to x-ray it to be sure."

Janet assisted Sam to lie back on the bed, the nurse quickly taking vital signs while she tested reflexes. Pulling out the pen light, Sam groaned and closed her eyes.

"Janet not the light, my head hurts enough as it is," Sam pleaded, not even recognizing her blunder. Janet stopped and looked to the Colonel, who shrugged his shoulders again.

"Why does your head hurt Sam?" Janet asked evenly, the Major's blue eyes opening as she realized her mistake. Connecting with Janet's gaze, she made a weak attempt to smile.

"It may have connected with the floor along with my foot," she admitted causing Janet to sigh deeply.

"Pulse and blood pressure slightly elevated m'am," the nurse reported as she passed the values over to the Doctor.

"Jennifer, set up a foot X-ray and head CT right away." Jennifer nodded and left, Janet now leaning over the prone form of the Major. Sam's foot was stripped to the knee, her BDU's pulled up and it's swollen form resting on a pillow. Sam's eyes were closed, her left hand holding her head.

"Sam, I think you have a concussion as well," she surmised," It explains your sensitivity to sound and photosensitivity, your headache. Where did you hit your head?"

Using her left hand, Sam indicated the back of her head. Donning a pair of gloves, Janet began palpating her head. A large goose egg was readily felt, a small amount of blood seeping from the abrasion.

"I know Janet," Sam stated quietly before the Doctor could say anything else, "I should have just came to you."

Janet smiled, patting her friend's arm maternally. "Yes, you should have," she agreed and folded her arms. "You're lucky you didn't pass out in your lab or in the hall way. This time of night, it could have been morning before you were found," Janet chided. "You're lucky Colonel O'Neill found you."

"Hear that Carter? Lucky. Looks like you owe me again Major," O'Neill gloated, a wide smile on his face. Carter groaned again.

"Please tell me you are not keeping score sir," Sam opened one eye, finding the Colonel giving her his goofy grin, hands in pockets.

"Of course Carter. Don't ya wanna know your score?"

"Colonel...," Janet warned, her eyebrow raised in contempt. "Please leave the infirmary. Sam needs rest and we need to get her squared away," she explained, watching as the Colonel's smile faded like a kid getting his playtime revoked.

"Is that an order?"

"Yes sir," she replied promptly, the Colonel scuffing his feet and looking to Carter whose face was drawn into a grimace.

"Later Carter, hang in there. Fraiser's got drugs coming."

"Yes sir," Sam simply replied. The Major hoped that was soon because the throb in her foot was working its way into her hip.

"And Carter?" Sam managed to pry open one eye again and give him a questioning glare.

"First dibs on signing your cast," O'Neill smiled before exiting the infirmary, Janet shaking her head. Sam merely groaned.

* * *

Colonel Jack O'Neill walked purposefully through the halls of the SGC, playfully tossing the permanent marker in his hand about in the air as he walked. As he exited the elevator, it was only a few moments before he reached his destination.

The infirmary was dimly lit, a courtesy to the only patient housed there at the moment. Seeking out the chief medical officer, Jack found Janet filling out paper work in her office. Knocking loudly, the Doctor raised her head and waved the Colonel in.

"So Doc, what's the word?" he asked casually, his hands still fidgeting with the black permanent marker. Jack avoided Janet's disproving glare and instead focused on her office, noting the several awards that hung on the wall. The pictures of Cassie and herself, a couple other personal touches.

"Sam is asleep Colonel. The fracture to her foot was clean but she will be off field duty for 6-8 weeks. Her concussion was mild but she is going to stay here today for observation," Janet watched as the Colonel finished looking over her office and made eye contact.

"Good. I'm just gonna go see her. I promise I will not wake her up," Jack vowed, crossing his heart with his finger. Janet sighed.

"Okay Colonel but Sam needs her rest, she put herself through quite an ordeal." O'Neill nodded his head in agreement.

"No problem Doc," Jack gave her a mischievous smile, Janet rolling her eyes, doubtful that the Colonel would follow through with his promise. Janet knew better than to try to keep him away though, it was like trying to keep a kid away from candy and usually resulted in spilled tears—her own.

O'Neill gave the CMO a final wave before exiting her office and entering into the medical bay. Nodding to several medical personnel he encountered, he stopped at the door as he saw Carter fidgeting around in her bed. Jack remained in the shadows as he curiously tried to ascertain what his 2IC was up to.

Carter sat up in bed, her over bed table sat before with an empty breakfast tray. The Major's casted right foot was propped on pillows. Jack watched with amusement, as she appeared to be digging at something on her leg his eyebrow rising as he creeped forward to hear what she was saying.

"Oh...Oh...yeah," Carter's voice sounded slightly desperate as she continued doing...whatever she was doing. Thoroughly interested now, Jack chose that moment to make his presence known. He always enjoyed when he got the opportunity to make Carter squirm.

"Carter," his voice causing her stop and look up immediately, "What on earth are you doing?" Sam looked to O'Neill sheepishly, as she placed her hands on her over bed table. Jack then realized she held a spoon in her hand. A large smile washed over his face.

"Nothing sir," Carter replied quickly, as she cleared her throat and looked to her superior. Jack could not help but notice she looked much better than the last time he saw her. It also meant he would not feel bad playing her on.

"I'm pretty sure that was something Major," he continued, Sam glaring at the cheeky smile plastered over his face. Walking casually up to her bed, his smile grew even more—if that was possible. "How's the cast?"

Sam frowned at Jack as she began playing with Band-Aid on her arm from where they had taken a blood sample. "Fine sir, as comfortable as a cast can be. Janet says I should be able to go home tonight."

"Very good Carter." Jack replied seriously. "Consider SG-1 your escort home. Teal'c has already picked out appropriate movie material," Jack stated in monotone, using finger quotes as he impersonated the Jaffa's voice. "I believe its Star Wars again. Someone keeps telling him there is more than one Star Wars movie...," Jack stated with a sigh. If he found out who that was, they would be doing night shifts for the next three months.

"Ahh... Teal'c does love his sci-fi sir," Carter reasoned as she moved her casted leg around and groaned slightly.

"Problem Carter?" Jack asked, knowing exactly what her problem was and enjoying seeing her trying to hide it. Jack had broken many bones over the years and knew what the worst thing about casts was.

"Ahh...no sir. I'm fine."

"Uh-huh," O'Neill answered knowingly, giving her a small pat on the shoulder. "Well Carter, be back later. Daniel said he would be around soon to check in on you." Nodding her head distractedly, Carter again began moving her injured leg around.

"Oh...okay sir," Carter replied, giving him a reassuring smile as he stepped forward. Leaning down, he grabbed the fork off her breakfast tray and handed it to Sam. She looked to him suspiciously before taking the offered utensil.

"The fork works much better Carter," he informed her, glancing into the rest of the infirmary for Janet.

"Sir?" she asked coyly.

"For the itch Carter. Don't tell me you are moving your leg around for exercise." Sam looked at Jack as if he had two heads before looking around the infirmary herself. "Go ahead. Just don't let Doc find out." O'Neill winked quickly before straightening up.

"Thanks sir."

"No problem Carter. Oh, I almost forgot," holding up the permanent marker as evidence, Carter begrudgingly gave her blessing for him to put his mark on her cast. With a mischievous smile, he went to work and after several minutes stepped back, looking to Carter thoroughly pleased with himself.

Sam looked to his handiwork, to find a rough drawing that she thought was supposed to resemble Homer Simpson. Lovely, she thought as O'Neill looked to her expectantly.

"It's ...ahhh...great sir," she lied, giving him a small smile. Words could not quite express the joy she felt at having to stare at that for the next 5 weeks.

"I'm glad you like it Carter," Jack tossed the pen in the air one final time, giving her another smile. O'Neill waved good-bye before turning and exiting the room leaving Sam staring at the fork in her hands.

Looking around the infirmary one last time, Sam casually inserted the fork into her cast and used it to scratch. Her skin felt like lice were living underneath it and the cast had only been on a few hours. The prospect of 4-5 weeks was very unappealing.

"Thank god," Sam stated as the fork gave her some relief. The metal prongs of the fork worked gloriously, shivers running down her leg and causing a large smile to light her tired features. Who knew the Colonel could be so useful.

Not that she would admit that to him.


End file.
